Page 3 of Punt My Life
What can I say? I’m a loner. I’m not shy or insecure. I just prefer my own company…or the company of my current book boyfriend since smutty romance is my guilty pleasure. The only exception is game day. I love sports and football is by far my favorite.
I attend all the home games at Thorngrove University and watch the away games on the massive TV at Ball Busters, the sports bar on Bears Avenue. Which is where I’m sitting now, watching our Bears try to pull out a win against the North Carolina Tar Heels in the Mountain Bowl. The game is much closer than it should be since the Tar Heels’ offense is driving the ball down the field on every play.
Dirk Sheppard is a star linebacker for the Bears, but he’s been benched the entire game. In a half-time interview, the coach said it was to save him from unnecessary injury since he’s already been drafted to play for the NFL next year, but I don’t buy it. They wouldn’t let the score get this close when he could stop the Tar Heels’ offense if he were on the field.
“Come on, guys. We need a touchdown. Let’s win this thing!” I yell at the screen with the other fans around the bar.
The score is tied with two minutes left on the clock. The Bears have the ball on the forty-five-yard line. It’s third down and six yards to the first down line. They either need a touchdown or to move the line of scrimmage into better position for a field goal to win the game before it goes to overtime.
When the ball is snapped, the smallest defensive lineman I’ve ever seen gets right between our offensive line and sacks the quarterback, pushing us back to the fifty-yard line. Groans and cursing sound out around the bar.
I down the last of my beer and wave the bartender, Zack, over for a refill. My body heats when I glance at the screen to see the number 30 on the back of the tall, lean player running onto the field.
Is Maddox really going to attempt to kick a field goal at that distance?
Maddox
Iwasalreadywarmingup behind the bench in case we made it into field goal range when our QB got sacked, driving us back further. When I tell the coach that I can still make it, he shakes his head.
“Come on, Coach. What’s the worst that could happen if I miss it? We go into overtime. That’s where we’re headed anyway,” I beg.
“No.” Coach points his finger at me. “The worst that could happen is an interception and touchdown return like the game between Alabama and Auburn some years back?”
“I’ve been making sixty-yard kicks consistently in practice. There’s no wind. I’ve got this,” I say, bouncing on my feet to keep my leg warm.
“Okay, get in there and get it done.” Coach slaps me on the shoulder.
I’m not usually nervous when I get ready to kick a football, but I am right now. We’re on the fifty-yard line, which means this will be a sixty-seven-yard field goal…if I make it. No.WhenI make it, it will put me with only four other kickers in college football history and they all did it over forty years ago.
The world slows down around me as I set my focus on the ball, tuning everything else out. I jog toward the ball and when the top of my foot connects, I already know it’s going to fly true. I look up just in time to see it sail through the middle of the goalposts.
The crowd is going nuts as my team lifts me onto their shoulders in celebration. We’ve won the Mountain Bowl, gaining us our semi-final championship, and cinching our spot in the National Championship game next week.
As soon as the interviews are over and we get to the locker room, I pull my phone out and text Lexi. I usually don’t contact her between tutoring sessions, but I haven’t seen her in over two weeks and she’s the only one I want to celebrate with besides my teammates.
Me: Hey, sexy Lexi. We won our game.
Lexi: I know. I saw. That was some kick.
She watched the game?
Me: You watched me play? I knew you liked me. Come celebrate with me.
Lexi: I watched the BEARS play. Aren’t you like three hours away?
That’s not a “no” for once.
Me: We’re hoping to hit Ball Busters before last call. If we don’t make it, we’ll party at the football house.
Lexi: Like Zack would close before the team gets here after that game. He’s already running the barbacks crazy, restocking for the team.
Me: The fuck you doing at Ball Busters?
Lexi: Duh. Watching the game.
Me: Stay and party with me.
I throw my phone down and head to the shower without waiting for her answer.
